


The Light of All Lights

by Daveysmissmurder



Series: Serial Killers!AU [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood and Gore, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, Mind Manipulation, Necrophilia, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Temporary Character Death - Jack Harkness, Torture, Violence, but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 19,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daveysmissmurder/pseuds/Daveysmissmurder
Summary: What if the Darkness in the show had a stronger foothold? If our beloved characters that had gone through so much, became the very thing the world needed saved from? Torchwood Serial Killer!AU





	1. Chapter One

“There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.” -Bram Stoker, Dracula

 

Jack slid his greatcoat over his shoulders, looking down from his window to the beating hearts of his team.

 _Captain Jack Harkness_ , he thought wryly, _Leader of the Torchwood Institute_. He grinned. It had a wonderful ring to it. Not the least because of what he’d been through to get here.

Being abandoned after his heroic death on a Game Station over a hundred thousand years ago, and he still hadn’t aged; physically. But the mental scars he’d developed, from gazing into the Darkness and having it gaze back, were deep and seeping. He’d done his best to get back to the Doctor, to Rose, to ask for help from the only two people a con-man could trust, but he’d truly been abandoned, according to a young fortune teller.

Left all alone with this curse. Dying and reviving; outliving everyone around him. He’d even been targeted for his new abnormality, his brawls to the death attracting the wrong sort of attention, leading to his brutal torture by then Torchwood leaders Alice Guppy and Emily Holroyd. That had done it, for Jack.

If the Doctor didn’t want to come to Jack, well then, he’d make him.

Jack couldn’t die, but other people could. It started off with some drunks causing a ruckus, a few harmless aliens that he was contracted to kill, and then Jack just began to not care. Anyone he could get his hands on and no one to miss them, he’d get the urge to shove it in the Doctor’s face. _See me now_ , he’d think.

However, all his training at the Time Agency and the warnings the Doctor had instilled in him on changing timelines seemed moot. Nothing ever happened. No reapers came to claim him or the Earth, cosmic consequences weren’t bouncing around the atmosphere, and the Doctor didn’t show. No Time Agents appeared to take him away and erase more of his memories. He was still alone.

Which only made it easier to continue as he had; with all his anger and desperation turning to calculation and satisfaction. After all, what was the best position a killer could be in? Leader of the Torchwood Institute, where “If It’s Alien, It’s Ours.” Where employees and agents didn’t usually last more than 10 years, with subsequent years seeing that figure lower than ever. And not only would Jack outlive them all, he’d enjoy doing it.

Take this team, or playthings, for instance. They were going to be the longest he’d played with; he’d make sure of it. After he tortured Alex Hopkins into insanity, he’d regretted how quick the ensuing blood bath had been. Jack hadn’t even been present to see his work in action. And the few team members he’d picked up after that New Years’ were so briefly employed that Torchwood One had never even noticed. But this team, he’d found them already broken and wonderfully primed to play with. This game would last.

“Suzie, you’re in charge ‘til I get back,” Jack demanded, leaving his office and locking the door.

Suzie didn’t respond, still wiping down the Resurrection Gauntlet he’d given her to tinker with. She was already feeling a pull to it, just as Jack hoped. He didn’t need a partner, especially not when they were one of his toys, but she’d be the strongest and the first to go. She just needed a bit more time for Jack to prepare her. Bequeathing her with a metal glove that would tell her to go into the same Darkness he’d emerged from was particularly satisfying.

Entering the lift, he had a last glimpse of his other two playthings. Toshiko would be too easy, if Jack wasn’t careful. She’d break and shatter and nothing Jack could do would ever put her back together; he had left her in that Unit Cell a bit longer than planned, but Suzie came along and he’d been distracted. Owen, on the other hand, that would tickle him like no other. Being there when the doctor’s fiancée had been murdered and taking her body to Torchwood, cajoling the grieving man into the same organization that had insured she died to minimize collateral damage, was already a fantastic feeling. Only Jack bet that Owen’s demise could be the longest in coming, and also, the most euphoric death Jack had designed.

Smiling to himself and giving a whistle of contentment, Jack strode from the lift and buttoned the top of his coat, emerging from the Tourist Office and onto the sunlit dock. It was so bright, for a moment, he didn’t even see the man in front of him.

“Coffee?”

Jack scowled. Jones, Ianto Jones, the ex-Torchwood One survivor that he’d thought he’d ditched last night.

The young man had a polite, open face. A broad grin was stretched across his pink lips and he was dressed to entice. Too simple, too easy, too quick.

Then again, if Jack was going to drag out the game for those inside, maybe he’d need another toy no one would miss. _Just to keep myself in shape_ , he thought, reaching out for the mug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea where this came from. Sure, serial killers!AU are some of my favorite stories in every fandom; especially, Supernatural. I’ve seen very few for Torchwood and they’re all very brief, the ones I’ve found. Or the characters are actually creatures and aliens that kill for fun and or need to in order to survive.   
> But what about human serial killers? Every fandom should have a good selection of delving into the darkness of characters, in my opinion. So, when I realized that there wasn’t a lot to choose from here, I thought, “How best do I turn people that save the world, into the very beings that the world should be saved from?”   
> This story being a Jack/Ianto fic was a given. I’ve been working on an extremely long Torchwood ABO Janto verse, that I have no idea when it’ll be done, but I needed someplace to get rid of the tension that showed up in my work. A place to bash some characters, kill them off, write all the smut my heart desires, when it clearly didn’t fit into that other story. Yet…maybe.And this was born.   
> This is not my usual writing. My stories tend to take on a life of their own and stretch out well beyond the 100,000 mark, which is why they’re so difficult to finish. But this story wrote itself in days. Shorter chapters, little dialogue, less complex plot; but the way I wrote it gave me shivers. Not that it’s in any way a gem in the serial killer genre, nor very original in my opinion, but it was new for me. I’ve never written so quickly, never not had to edit as little as I did, and the way the words flowed into a pattern that my mind grasped as quickly as it did and would not let go; it was a catharsis for me. So, I hope you enjoy and I hope to inspire some more of this genre into this fandom.   
> By the way, this story has no Beta Reader, but I'd be pleased if someone wanted to offer their services. This story is complete, rushed, and rambling.


	2. Chapter Two

“It hurts,” came the whisper from behind him. “Please…”

Ianto almost fumbled a syringe, glaring at the slippery object as if it were personally responsible, and throwing a quick, “I know, I know…” over his shoulder.

Lisa was whimpering, little gasps of agony. Ianto finished re-filling the syringe and turned back to the make-shift conversion table she was laid out on. Injecting the cortisone into the latticework of metal around her heart, he had to burrow the needle through the thick chest muscles.

This was too easy for Ianto. The Captain wasn’t very bright, practically handing Ianto the keys to his goal by inviting him in as quickly as he’d done.

“The creature that’s fused with you has made you strong, Lisa.” Ianto smooths a hand over the metal where her hair should be, watching her tears spill over and her breathing speed up. “But I’ll break it. I always do, in the end.”

Aliens were so primitive, or advanced, that human instruments of health and safety could do some serious damage to their foreign bodies. But a specimen that had fused with humans…well, Ianto wouldn’t turn down the chance to experiment.

Humans weren’t usually his forte. Very messy and it was easy to get caught. Working for Torchwood had given him the chance he’d needed to release the tension building inside of him. Their motto was perfect for him. Ianto could do whatever he wanted, all in the name of science, to strange, sentient beings that still showed forms of emotion and pain. The best were the ones that could handle Ianto’s methods for months.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Ianto hadn’t dabbled. His handler, Bev Stanley, had seen his vicious tactics one day and Ianto had to get rid of her. Good old Torchwood; he’d been promoted and she’d been replaced, all in the same day. And then, they had to go and get greedy, leaving him without a fix. Lisa had helped him there. As if she was sent from the Darkness itself.

The first time Ianto had come in contact with the Darkness, he’d been ten. He’d woken from it to screams and hands pulling at him, a seatbelt digging into his aching chest, and a dead mother in the front seat. That was also the first time that Ianto wished the Darkness would come for him, and he still believed it would, one day. Time would catch up to him, no matter that the Fae were convinced they could have made him live forever; Ianto’s life had been skipped over that day in the accident and the Darkness would eventually make that right. Living forever alone with the Fae, escaping the hands of an alcoholic father and a neglectful sister; Ianto had passed that up. Too boring, for him. Though, he wishes it had been him that had ended his family. To see the light leave their eyes, all awareness, like his alien subjects. But that wouldn’t have been Darkness coming for him, no, it would have been the police. And that wouldn’t be as fun.

“There.” Ianto set the hand-held cauterizer aside, observing the way the metal fused completely with her dark skin. “I like the contrast,” he muttered, removing his gloves. They had some of her skin stuck to them; where it had peeled away from the flesh, like cooked chicken. Even sort of smelt the same.

She was having difficulty retaining a normal breathing pattern, Ianto noted, as he picked up his suit jacket and dusted it off. Shrugging the garment over his shirt, Ianto reached out for the oxygen tank and turned it down two levels.

“We’ll pick this up tomorrow, Lisa.” He walked away, hearing her lungs working overtime, but he wasn’t worried when he locked the door behind him. The machine elements would kick in if she lost too much oxygen and she wouldn’t sleep for some time with those drugs in her system.

Ianto was going to continue to play with Lisa until the Darkness came for him, for he could feel it creeping closer, growing in the corners outside his vision. It wanted to devour, symbiotically merge with the bit it had already left behind in him. And Ianto wanted to let it. After he had his fun.


	3. Chapter Three

He was right, this wouldn’t be fun. Like scratching an itch; Jack could perfunctorily give it a scrape with a fingernail and it would go away, but he wanted to keep tearing until drops of blood shone under a light. He wanted to revel in the sensation, but Ianto Jones was artless.

Not a one of his other playthings would be devastated at his loss. Jack could make it look like any sort of accident he wanted. The Teaboy, as Owen had dubbed him, stayed as late as Jack, no witnesses. He didn’t socialize or try to integrate himself in any way, removing all emotional attachment. And he worked down in the lower levels where Jack could easily lock him in a cell, have his enjoyment for a moment, put the body in the furnace, hose the place down, and still have time for breakfast before the rest trickled in.

And he was worried about Suzie. She was ripe for the picking now, already killed three innocents. Time to take away the glove and watch her dissolve into madness without her fix, perhaps? Bring her down to a cell and really give her a body to work with, then turn her creativity around on her and make a night of it? Timelines, though, they’re all off, for Jack. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he’d bitten off more than he could chew. An easy kill versus one that he’d set up for years. Would two employees at once be too suspicious?

Oh, and there was another he wanted to play with so badly! A copper, at that! What would it be like to kill one of those in this century? There’d been one listening in at their crime scene that night, nosy and willing to break orders and rank. Usually, Jack’s manner left them angry and abashed, all at once. This one, though, she’d be a new toy that might last longer than even Owen. And she’d come to him all on her own.

Which brought him back to his current problem, as he walked into the Hub, alarms disabled.

Ianto Jones, sans jacket and cuffs rolled back neatly, was skulking into the Hub’s lower levels. Another toy that had leapt into Jack’s life by its own free will.

Checking his Webley and finding it loaded, he realizes if he’s going to bring another toy into the game, he should get rid of one, as well. The gun is always a good method of getting his prey where he wants it and a shattered knee is a decent means of hobbling them.

Following Ianto on silent feet, Jack watches him push open a door to a storage room. Raising his gun, he skids the big door to the side and notices the former T1 has his back to him. With a grim smile, he enters fully…and stops.

“Please!” The deformed alien on the table calls out to him from where it’s strapped down.

_Cybermen_? Jack keeps his gun trained on the virtually undressed Archivist in front of him, but can’t take his eyes off the new toy. This is the perfect opportunity to get rid of this plaything! It had set itself up for death under Torchwood protocol!

The alien struggled, giving Jack a good preview of its upcoming death at his hands. But he’s disappointed to notice the blood already staining her metal.

“It’s about time, Sir.” Jack fights not to blink rapidly, holding his position on his defenceless employee. Ianto Jones isn’t scared. His face isn’t registering any of the usual expressions of shock, rage, despair, pain, even mock playfulness of the truly ignorant. _No, he’s as stoic as ever_ , Jack thinks.

Looking back at the table dominating the center of room, he really takes stock of the situation he walked into. The tools laid out, weeping blood into the antiseptic fluid at the bottom of the tray. A sniveling girl trapped under all that Cybermen technology. Her tight binds at each ankle and wrist. “Please,” she begs him; him!

“This game was getting quite boring,” Jones went on. He gestured towards the table. “Everything’s so boring, here.”

“What?” Jack’s gun lowered just slightly. He’d no longer get a chest shot; a delicious gut wound, if he opened fire. But none of this was boring to Jack! This was a game he’d never played.

“I’ve been waiting, you see.” Ianto shows his hands, no blood or weapon. The way they’re displayed, though, out at his sides, leaves Jack with the visual of a blood-flecked white dress shirt. A pearl button perfectly dotted with a drop of scarlet. “The Dark has been waiting for me, too.”

Coifed hair, placid smile, dark eyes where such a light color shouldn’t possibly hold shadows. Jack’s first impression of Ianto Jones was right, is still right, he just read it wrong! This was not a toy! Ianto Jones was not a plaything!

No, Ianto Jones was the face that Jack only showed in his mirror in his bolt hole, the one he allowed to drift over his features on a rooftop late at night. It was the face he wore under the mask for others to feel comfortable and lured in. Ianto Jones just didn’t need a mask. He showed his true face to the world! And no one noticed him, lurking and waiting to strike. He never hid and Jack still hadn’t noticed!

Fully dropping his arms, Jack let the butt of the gun rest on his thigh. Ianto pouted! Jack grinned, a creeping tendril of giddiness overtaking him.

“Show me.” When Ianto still appears disappointed, Jack motions towards his work. The alien sniffles harder, crying now, and thunks the metal headpiece back on to the table.

Ianto looks between Jack’s gun and the unfinished job, then shrugs. Turning swiftly, he retrieves a thumbscrew from the table behind him and calmly walks the distance to the Cyberwoman. His shoes making no noise on the stone floor.

“She doesn’t have thumbs,” Jack points out.

He can only see Ianto’s profile, highlighted by the overhead lamp connected to the conversion unit, but that smile drags heat up from Jack’s gut. It barely curls his lips, but his satisfaction exudes from it.

“No, sir,” Ianto murmurs. Again, giving Jack pleasure that weighs heavy on his eyelids. “But she does have eyes. Don’t you, Lisa?”

Jack throws his head back and laughs. Ianto tells his pet to scream for their audience and Jack almost feels he’s talking to both of them.


	4. Chapter Four

_Not a single mention of me_. Ianto shut down the shared computer, utterly sure of his plan. Now that Gwen Cooper had been Retconned, he got to play.

Jack had mentioned his game with Suzie was all but falling apart. But Ianto’s ideas for Gwen would make up for it. Because PC Gwen Cooper wanted to feel important. A beat cop with a small and miserable work history, not going anywhere in life. High-socialite parents and family, while she lives in a cramped flat with her lorry-driving boyfriend. She was desperate.

A heavy hand slid over his shoulder. Ianto pulls the cord on the desk lamp and leans back into the Captain’s touch, letting his head fall. There’s a special Darkness in Jack’s eyes that tugs at Ianto, like now. He returns Jack’s grin. His lips stretch further than they’re used to.

“How did it go?” Jack sways a bit closer. That possessive hand creeps down to his chest, solid and powerful.

With animal instincts, Ianto stretches his neck back. But he doesn’t remove their locked gazes. “If you’re amenable, Sir, Suzie would be a wonderful first test for her.”

“I did like watching you work.” A hot puff of air journeys down with every word slipping through Jack’s teeth. Ianto luxuriates in it. “And it’s not often I get to watch.”

His body lengthens under Jack’s assault. His arse is barely on the chair, legs splayed and long, hands tight on the armrests. Hissing at the new placement of his bosses’ hand; a thumb caressing over the crease where his pectorals meet, Ianto explains. “She’s self-entitled enough to believe herself worth this job. Setting her up against Suzie would only boost her ego.”

“She’d die to Suzie quickly,” Jack points out, practically purring.

“Not if we control it behind the scenes.” Planning always got his blood going. He was glad Jack shared that trait. “Break the Retcon, put her in danger, have her witness an actual body, and offer her a job, Sir. She’ll be putty in our hands. Plenty of time to play.”

Jack hums. Guides Ianto to stand in the circle of his arms. Ianto’s puzzled. This is new.

“Perfect.” Jack’s lips slip across his. For a moment, Ianto’s positive it was a mistake. “But, if you don’t mind, I’ve got an addendum.” But Jack doesn’t allow him to ask.

Spit-slicked lips slide over his dry mouth. The skin catches, dragging. The Captain does it again. Eventually, his lips are as wet as Jack’s. But it’s not Ianto’s doing, because he’s not sure what he should be doing. Ianto’s never participated in something that wasn’t staged. For example, pecks on the cheek from the ex-girlfriend currently locked in the basement. However, Jack’s nipping teeth suggests this is more.

They’re pressed so close. When Jack smiles it stretches Ianto’s lax mouth into the same expression. “I’m gonna have so much fun teaching you,” Jack murmurs.

_Fun_? Ianto’s only ever applied the word to his work.

He’s malleable, bending over Jack’s desk as prompted. Ianto doesn’t usually like change; anything new. Jack’s weight crushes him and a tongue darts over the back of his neck. _No harm in trying_ , he thinks.


	5. Chapter Five

These fractures weren’t as satisfying as the ones Jack could feel beneath his hands. But the air in the Hub was still delightful after Suzie’s death. Owen all aflutter with guilt was a direct contrast to his animosity with his newest co-worker. Tosh mourned as she did everything; quietly. It hadn’t stopped her pining for the doctor, though. Jack had noted her continued interest and wondered if his game with either of them should include breaking them together. Food for thought.

Glancing away from Owen and Gwen’s spat, he spotted Ianto. _Mmm, nice suit_. Jack licked his lips. Not at all hungry for the Chinese that Ianto had quietly brought down. No, the lilac shirt against all that dark fabric was what stirred his hunger.

These past few nights, waiting for their new game with Gwen to start, had seen Ianto in all sorts of positions. Even though Ianto Jones wasn’t the most responsive lover Jack had ever taken, he was very flexible! And always willing to contort himself into whatever role the Captain wanted.

If he’s thought about how delicious it would be if Ianto could show the same passion towards sex as he does to murder, he hasn’t let on. Yet, Jack has an idea to make it a reality in the very near future.

The pointed eyebrow Ianto sends his way makes his pants twitch. Swirling back to the temper tantrum behind him, Jack asserts his authority as leader. “You know, strictly speaking,” he stuffs his hands in the greatcoat pockets and rocks on his heels. “Throttling the staff is my job.”

His employees disentangle themselves and his lover offers food. Jack’s quite proud that they don’t even recognize Ianto as the hand who holds it. As if he’s not there. But that would change, in time. Step 3 in Breaking Gwen Cooper: give her one good day and then bring it all down around her.

They’d crush her spirit completely. After all, Ianto had finally broken his toy downstairs.

Jack leisurely strolled behind the group, up to the conference room. Watching the muscles in Ianto’s backside move. _We’ll make a great team, all on our own_.


	6. Six

A spark leaps towards the closed furnace door, but Ianto remains rooted in place. Flames lick over glowing metal. It’s the only light available down in the bowels of Torchwood, tonight.

The hissing of trapped steam, Lisa’s body cooking through, reminds Ianto of Gwen’s screams. With Jack keeping Owen from arriving too soon, Ianto waited around the corner to his play room, giving the alien more time to work. More time for Gwen to cry, helplessly, on a blood-spattered conversion table. One Ianto and Jack had put together just for her.

Of course, it wouldn’t do to have the game end early. Tonight was only the beginning. Gwen’s life being in danger would never be enough to send her running. But the screaming, the fear, that they could use in the long run.

Frowning, Ianto thought, _the only thing to go wrong was Jack dying_. Things always go wrong when the variables are so unpredictable. And a Cyberwoman, was just that. She’d even gotten her hands on Ianto. He’d expected her to want to do some damage, after all of Ianto’s sessions. Only, he’d woken from being thrown across the Hub perfectly fine, if not a bit sore. With all of Jack’s lovely attention focused on him. Jack would hate it, but Ianto almost thought he felt Darkness brushing against his soul. So close…

Like an octopus, long limbs with crushing force wound around his middle, the hands slithering down to palm his hips. The movement undulated against both sides of his cock, and Ianto felt his body react. It always did around Jack.

“You look wonderful like this.” A hand slides into his too tight pocket and teases a few fingers against the growing ridge in his suit pants. “That fire frames you perfectly. Lit up with the death of our enemy.”

He can only imagine what Jack looks like. All wild black hair, amber eyes flashing in time with the make-shift grave, white teeth displayed in the shadows.

Curiously, his body tightens, and Jack groans, feeling the reaction he’s caused. A harsh pain digs deep into his shoulder. Saliva slicks his dress shirt as Jack pants through the open-mouthed bite. His hands are moving again, undoing his slacks.

Ianto’s never had his body so out of control, like this. He’s had Jack take him in whatever way he pleased. It didn’t mean much to Ianto. He didn’t understand what it was supposed to do, but figured if Jack wanted it, who was he to deny his passion? Either way, it didn’t affect Ianto. Until now…

“What,” his lips are dry. Funnily enough, so is his mouth. Must be standing too close to the fire. “What will we do next? Give Gwen a bit of a break? Focus on the others?”

Jack huffs a laugh in his ear, but doesn’t respond. A quick lick against the outer shell and then Jack’s teeth are nipping the lobe. He finds himself moving into it, into Jack, taking a step back into his chest.

One hand has slid past his boxers, curling around his cock. Ianto’s felt it do this before, harden and pulse. But he’s never been as hard as he is now. The sensations have never left him wanting more or less, they just were. Jack’s other hand trails down to curve around his balls, shoving his trousers to fall mid-thigh.

A gasp echoes into the crackling space around them and Ianto couldn’t have stopped its release if he’d tried. Snarling, Jack takes one last nip at his ear before spinning him around. It leaves Ianto dizzy and stumbling. His trousers hindering his movement, though Jack doesn’t seem to mind. The hand that fists into the back of his hair, already damp with sweat from the heat and curling out of its gel, has his back bowing. With their chests pressed tight together and Ianto’s legs all but useless, the grip on the back of his neck has Ianto looking up into Jack’s burning eyes.

Without allowing Ianto to look away, Jack tugs. The pressure to his scalp is delicious and intoxicating. Ianto’s cock jerks with it and his pre-cum wets the front of Jack’s trousers. The fabric creating the most wonderful sensation. It has Ianto groaning through the bend in his throat and his eyelids lowering.

Jack’s heavy breath is hitting his open mouth. He can’t seem to make it close. And he can distantly feel Jack’s hand brushing him. Hear his own zipper lowering to join Ianto’s, pooled around their ankles.

“Sir.” It wheezes out of him, hard to manage with his neck in this position. And he’s not quite sure what he wants to say, anyways. Another twitch of Jack’s hand in his hair and Ianto’s groaning again.

“Say my name.” Jack’s face is so close, now, hovering over him. Sharing the same air; the oxygen not feeding the rising flames behind him, feels close to igniting in between them. “Say it.”

Ianto can’t remember what he was going to say. Can’t remember anything but, “Si-“. Jack’s hand closes around both of their cocks, bringing them together hard and slick. “Jack!” The hand in his hair is gone, as Jack’s grin grows, and Ianto almost wants to ask for it back. He’s never wanted to ask for anything while Jack had his ‘other fun’. That same hand is curling around the nape of his neck; cradling his skull in one broad hand. Lifting him to meet Jack’s teeth and tongue and lips.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Never wanted to do this before! But he wants…more!

Moaning into Jack’s frenzied mouth, Ianto’s hands flutter. There’s not ever been a need for his participation. They settle for scrabbling at Jack’s coat, gripping tight. Panting into Jack’s opened-mouth, biting, kisses. The gun calluses on Jack’s thumb and forefinger dragging down the length of both of them.

“You’ve been dead for too long, Ianto,” Jack gasps. Ianto whines, not wanting words, but hearing them all the same. “Living for death, for all the wrong reasons. Because this is life.” His hand twists on its upward stroke and Ianto jolts further into him, feeling a droplet of sweat run down his spine through his shirt. “That body burning as you give yourself to me, that’s life!” Jack’s teeth clamp down on his bottom lip…and Ianto’s gone.

Burning, like Jack said, in a sharp burst of white-hot supernova, before darkness descends. It’s not a darkness he’s familiar with. But, he thinks he’d like to give himself over to this one more.


	7. Chapter Seven

Cloistered in his bunker, Jack’s grateful for the tiny space for once. It makes the clench of Ianto around his cock all the tighter.

“So sweet, Ianto,” he whispers, afraid to break this spell. Since the death of their first plaything Ianto’s sexual appetite had abounded. Jack’s idea of violence and blood stirring something primal in his young employee was spot-on. And even now, all drugged up on pain relievers, Ianto was perfect. And Jack just couldn’t help himself. Ianto hadn’t said no…

Jack’s hands stroked every bit of bruised flesh, caressed cut and abused skin. Licked at the bit of blood and antiseptic on his hairline. He gripped those hips that had been thrown into tables and beaten with the bat Jack had broken over a villager’s head, when he spotted the state of his playmate.

He’s going slow, dragging every inch of himself out before slowly slotting back into place. Listening for all of Ianto’s tell-tale moans and sighs of equal pain and pleasure.

Ianto’s so wet after Jack went down on him. Doing everything he could to open Ianto on his tongue. Working extra-hard to keep Ianto interested through the haze of opioids in his system. Driving him delirious and wriggling into the ache.

Jack shifts and hears Ianto’s breath hitch, his chest trembling. Keeping himself seated at just the right angle, Jack swivels his hips up into him, sending Ianto crawling higher. Leaning down carefully, he tongues the nick on that sweat-soaked throat, following the trail up to his ear. He’s aligned perfectly with Ianto, their mouths resting so close that Jack can hear every whine and murmur of pleasure.

“That man won’t make it to prison with his family.” Jack chuckles, long and low. “We’ve got some space to fill down in our playroom. Are you going to help me with that, love?”

Not able to answer in any coherent sentences, Ianto tightens around him and Jack can’t take it anymore. Forcing himself through the clutch of Ianto’s insides, Jack feels the body underneath him jostling harder into the cot. Ianto’s hot spending and wet cock rubbing up on Jack’s abdomen as he whimpers; all-over sensitive. Jack eats those noises out of his mouth and then feeds him back his name, in bliss, as he shoots off inside of him.

Jack smiles softly down at the lax figure below him. Holding himself up on trembling arms, not able to leave his warmth just yet.

“Oh yes, Ianto,” he bends down for a soft press of lips. “So sweet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh! I've written sex scenes before, but never any as short as this. It was very strange trying to keep the chapters shorter and still write something that was 'explicit'. I have no idea how I feel about most of these scenes, but I hope people enjoy them.


	8. Chapter Eight

“Risen Mitten,” Ianto muttered to himself. The cannibal below him squirmed in fear. But the name had such a nice ring to it, that Ianto found himself doing it again. And again. Slicing around an ear as the words twisted in the air.

Gwen Cooper was going to be fun! In the beginning, Ianto had believed they would need to end her early. Her attitude for proving herself would get the others killed before he and Jack were ready. But the gift she had given them went a long way in making up for her mistakes.

Bringing a murdering employee back from the dead, with the very instrument she’d used to take life and bring it back. Genius! Of course, Jack was never going to let Gwen use the glove. It would never have worked for her. Even with Jack’s assurances that the glove only worked for those with a heart. Why couldn’t the stupid toys see? If the glove needed ‘heart’ to work, then how was Suzie one of the only ones who could use it?

_No matter_ , he thought as the door squealed behind him, _it all worked out_.

“Still down?”

Ianto turned his attention to their new plaything. Leaving the cannibal unattended, and without his right ear, for the moment.

Suzie was right where they left her. Lashed down to a metal rolling table, like Ianto’s toy, and fast asleep. The tranquil bullet that Jack had shot her with had healed already; only a hole in the fabric of her blouse. “Should be soon, Sir. Have the others left?”

Jack nodded, eyes playing over Ianto’s still suited form. It brought a small smile to his lips, to be appreciated, even as he knew they’d be Retconning the drycleaners again. At least they were now aware it wouldn’t drive them insane. Good help was hard to come by.

“All gone for the night. The Hub’s locked down tight.” Jack grinned at his play on words and began to shrug off his garments.

Shaking his head, Ianto turned back to his work. Ianto worked neat and tidy, as he liked most of the things in his life. The only deviation in that equation was Jack. Jack preferred messy and dirty. Most of all, he preferred Ianto to be messy and dirty.

Plucking the shaved ear off the side of the table, in gloved fingers, he dropped it in the bucket by his shiny shoes. Janet never let anything go to waste and it made clean-up easier.

Hands cupped his waist and slid up his sides, turning him to face Jack. Ianto had to raise the blade in the air to keep Jack out of harm’s way. Warm blood trickled down the blade and gloves to stain the inside of his shirt cuffs and sleeves. He wrinkled his nose.

Chuckling, Jack ground his lower half into Ianto’s, bumping the table behind them and making the cannibal howl through his gag. Ianto frowned. Jack hadn’t even put on his smock, yet. “I thought you were going to play, Sir.”

Appearing vaguely disappointed, a large pout took over Jack’s face. “Haven’t I taught you anything, Ianto? We can do both.”

“Is this torture?” A long-suffering sigh slithered its way from the other side of the room. “Having to deal with a naked Jack for the rest of my life?”

Jack turns to reveal their newly-awakened plaything. Suzie has a smug grin on her pale face, before she notices Ianto. It starts to slip, along with her eyes, as she tracks the movement of restless feet on a parallel table.

“Oh yes,” Ianto replies, deadpan. “This will be torture.”

“Jack, what is this?” Suzie starts to struggle, only just noticing her restraints. “Jack!” She throws her head back in a fury; snarling countenance displaying itself once more. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? What the hell is he doing here? Jack, what is this?”

Observing Jack retrieve his smock on the shared weapons table and scooping up the spare ball gag, Ianto turned his focus back to his plaything. This cannibal had almost taken Tosh too early. They had almost damaged her spirit completely. That case had almost lost them Gwen. And then who would be in their playroom with them?

Suzie’s voice muffled behind the gag left the room pleasantly silent. Ianto hummed in contentment. Quick as shredding paper, he drew the blade up the cannibals’ forearm. Right through the first few layers of skin. Human biology working with the human brain caused tears to leak from the murky eyes of his once-captor. Ianto traces the exposed muscles and fits the tip of the blade under a tendon, ready to reveal what lies beneath.

“You know,” Jack teases behind him. “We could technically play with Suzie forever.”

And Jack’s right that Suzie can’t die, now. Not for good. With Jack’s power to never stay dead and the bond that feeds the energy into the glove, Suzie will not die permanently. The most perfect plaything, until she loses her mind.

Throwing a carefully cultivated ‘nothing to see here, but I’m pleased anyway’ smile over his shoulder; he remarks, “I’ll play with her as long as I can.” For one day, Jack will have to find a new playmate.

Heat gushes over his hand, the glove soaking quickly. Ianto scowls back down at his work. He’d lost focus.

Grumbling, he snapped the glove off and threw it on the table, showing his displeasure. He cranks the blowtorch and stuffs the nozzle into the arm he’d been dissecting. Staunching the blood flow from the nicked artery.

“It’s alright.” He soothes the thrashing body on his table. “We’ll just have to start over on the other arm. It’s a good thing you have two.”

The smell of burning skin, the taste of sucked change in the back of his throat, and this little room all reminded him of their fun with Lisa. Ianto smiled. Yes, he’d play as long as he could with Jack.


	9. Chapter Nine

Jack’s lungs were heaving for air! His body begged to stretch out in his chair, open up his airways to bring in more oxygen. But the vision in front of him was so much better than the one that morning.

Ianto. Beautiful Ianto. Down on his knees, sullying them on the dusty floor, sucking Jack for all he’s worth. His eyes are closed, but Jack can spot the twinkling tears clumping his lashes together in the light of the lamp on his desk. They don’t stop Ianto from taking him deeper, drooling around him and oh so delightfully naked before him.

Since he’d entered the Hub to chaos, there was nothing Jack wanted more than to have Ianto alone. Reaffirm that his heart beat, that he existed here, for Jack!

But Owen’s bullet wound had needed seeing to, Gwen’s harsh words for their Archivist needed venting, and Tosh’s shaken composure had needed Jack’s best brand of whiskey. When all was said and done, it was just another normal day at Torchwood.

Torchwood nights were another matter entirely.

Ianto had waited faithfully. Casting the Hub in shadows, stripping as the cog door rolled back in place after Toshiko, and unclipping Jack’s braces in record time. He should know; his stopwatch stayed in perfect working condition.

Popping off, with sound effects and all, Ianto began to lick up the saliva coated pre-cum all down his shaft. His lips and cheeks glistened with his over-eager effort. A little warble of a hum in the back of his throat where it had taken the most abuse. Before ducking down and swiping his slick tongue over Jack’s balls.

“Gods, Ianto!” Jack inched his way down the chair, shoving himself as close as he could and giving Ianto room to work with. The movement caused his dick to slap into Ianto’s curls. It jumped and jerked of its own volition with every hot burst of air from Ianto’s nose. He shoved his hand in beside himself, moistening Ianto’s hair with fluids Ianto would glare at him for later in the shower.

How could he have ever thought 1941 was real? How could he have forgotten all about Ianto, all about Torchwood and the freedom it’s allowed him? For it felt nothing like this! Like life! And he wanted this forever! Whoever had been fucking with his playmate and playthings in his absence would understand that soon enough.

Sucking up as much air as he could, Ianto snuck back up to his initial prize. Jack noticed his eyes were calm, if not a bit mischievous, as he unraveled him. This time, he kept eye-contact as he slid back down and stopped. Daring Jack to use him.

Pulsing forward a bit, Jack groaned, feeling the spongy texture on the back of his throat hit the head of his cock. Growling, he continued to pick up the pace. Wanting to see Ianto’s throat bulge, but at this angle he could only imagine. With the sound of spit being fucked out of him, feeling it running down Ianto’s chin and soaking the curls above his cock, Jack came. Never letting up. Fucking it back into Ianto’s throat until there was nothing left he could give him.

Another, pop!, and Ianto began to cough. Phlegmy and thick sounding.

Moaning in fatigue and satisfaction, Jack reached down for his playmate. Settling those long limbs into the chair above him. Hearing the squeaks of abuse on the old piece of furniture.

As he snogged the briny taste of himself from Ianto’s teeth, he reminded himself, _This is life_.


	10. Chapter Ten

_What’ve I done wrong?_

What had he done? Maybe, he should have killed the village leader of cannibals sooner. Maybe, Jack had wanted a new toy. After all, he’d gotten tired of Suzie quickly. Once Jack had killed her quite often he’d detained her in cold storage. A reusable toy. But Ianto had thought there was so much left to discover with his. He thought Jack had been proud with how long Ianto had managed to make the stump of a man last.

He’d also thought the emptiness he’d experienced when Jack remained dead was the worst it had ever been. Simultaneously urging himself to slaughter each and every single team member in his rage, an emotion he’d never felt before; but also, to just sit in Jack’s space, in his chair, and imagine how upset he’d be that there was nothing left to play with when he came back. Because he had to come back. Right? Jack was going to play forever…

Days had passed. Ianto swinging between two extremes. Never knowing if he’d be the same again. Why had the Darkness come for Jack and not him?

And then there he’d stood. Dark hair shoved down into his face, dark baggy circles under his eyes; just dark. The Darkness had touched Jack and finally returned him, once more.

Ianto’s face had crumpled into an expression it was wholly unused to. His limbs would barely cooperate just to walk those few steps to his Captain. With everyone watching, watching his candor at Jack’s mere presence, he’d been tugged into the man that had brought life. Held safe, secure, and sweet. Been kissed with Jack’s warm, dry lips. And wanted to cry.

He could still feel the phantom impression, that swooping sensation, even knowing Jack had left.

Jack had stopped playing. And he hadn’t told him why. Perhaps he wasn’t the first playmate Jack had ever taken? Was there someone who could play better than he could, out there? He didn’t know. And now he’d never know.

Watching the cannibal’s corpse cool in their playroom, Ianto thought the room was dimmer. Darker.

Was this the punishment he’d have to face? For enjoying the rush of a taken life? This void? For Jack had taught him how to live. Then took it away.

He’d felt nothing when he’d killed his toy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters tomorrow will be much longer, but for now, I hope you enjoy!


	11. Chapter Eleven

How had it come to this?

His welcome home had been nothing as he’d imagined. And, while yes, it had taken longer to return than he’d thought…

Still! A team that believed they could back talk him in such a manner! That they could make their own choices! They’d almost all been killed and then where would his fun have been?

And meeting up with his old Agency partner had not been in the plans. At one point in time, he might have finally felt liberated from this backwater planet; this backwards century. Raring to go cause chaos in the stars! But Ianto had helped him understand patience. The sweetness in waiting for forever.

Now, they’re finally alone after so long, a damn year where he had learned so much, and Ianto isn’t responding to him.

A nice hotel room, a whole day to do whatever they please. And Ianto is gazing past him, not hardening to his touch, and Jack has been trying!

Sighing with frustration, he flops on his back and stares at the ceiling, too. Nothing interesting about it, even for a high-priced hotel.

“Ianto,” he ventures. “Do you want to do this forever? Kill with me?” Please, let that answer be yes. Let this not all be for naught. Don’t make Jack have to kill him, too.

With no inflection in his voice, Ianto continues to stare obstinately at the popcorn, off-beige ceiling. “The Darkness has been calling, lately.” Jack sucks in a breath. “I don’t have that sort of time.”

Concerned. The one emotion filling him up all night, and it’s now spilling over in Jack’s mind. Turning his head on the bedspread, he reaches out a hand to cup Ianto’s cheek and gently forces him to meet his gaze.

_Ianto’s regressed_ , he realizes. The shell he’d found in their first true meeting. Waiting for a death that should have come to him so long ago.

Leaning over slowly, he gives Ianto time to pull back. But as he thought, there’s no fire, no life at home in his playmate. With trembling lips, he presses against him. “Would you like to be with me forever, playing?”

Ianto’s lips pull into a smile, _not real_ , Jack notes. But his eyes remain clouded. “It’s a nice thought.”

Bringing his arm between them, with the wrist strap he never took off, Jack keyed in the security code to expose the cartridge tucked inside. “Would you like to play with me? Forever, Ianto?”

“Jack?” With Ianto’s frown is real emotion. Real life trickling in. Reaching out to the real life Jack holds in his hands.

“I had the perfect opportunity,” Jack grins. He waves the small, silver canister under Ianto’s nose, teasingly. “I had to take it. To go away, so that one day, you could come with me. My beautiful boy.”

Still upset, his archivist mumbles, “How?”

“The machine that held the power to give me life, was one I worked on long ago. It might have been an accident for me, but I knew how to get it, for you. Time owes me this much. We could have forever…”

Though they’re so close, the silence stretches long between them. Jack swallows the acrid tinged disappointment with every second that ticks by. Another second that Ianto hasn’t sworn to stay beside him.

“Don’t you have someone better to play with?” And Jack could just obliterate ‘Hart’ for his earlier presence that still clouds their reunion.

Resuming his place atop his handsome Welshman, Jack gives another grind of his hips. Immediately, Ianto’s body responded in kind.

“Jones, Ianto Jones,” he growls. Never letting him look away and doubt his sincerity. “I want to play with you forever.”

That sweet smile creeps into place and Jack takes that as an agreement. For he was never going to let Ianto say no, even if he’d wanted to.

Twisting the locking mechanism in three short jerks of a wrist, the gold dust escapes. Slithering down Ianto’s throat, up his nose, pooling around his eyes, and dripping down into his ears. Saturating every pore.

In his excitement, Jack moves quicker, harder. Feeling Ianto thicken on his hipbone. And take that first gasping breath of ever-lasting life.

_Welcome home, indeed._


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Explicit Sex (for this story, anyways) From here on out, most chapters will have sexual situations in them. Or, they'll be completely torture scenes. This is your warning...

_Another plan gone to shit_ , Ianto sulked. Rhys was supposed to die on this mission. Leaving Gwen bereft and devastated at the loss of life to Torchwood and her own ego. Instead, she was fine; vindicated, even. With a partner she could talk to about everything. And Ianto had died, in his stead.

He was home, now. The tiny little flat he rented to keep up appearances. Not that the others weren’t aware he and Jack had been intimate. But the idea of distance still between them was needed. And as he sat in the cooling bath water, his head draped back over the uncomfortable porcelain, he knew it worked, even now.

Having left as Gwen rowed with Jack in the Hub, Rhys patched up and waiting on her, outside the Tourist Office. Giving Ianto a nod of the truly shellshocked; drugged and wane. He honestly didn’t care if Rhys was Retconned or not.

Only, dying for the first time, had taken a lot out of him. He’d been shot in the damn chest, dislocated his thumbs, chafed his wrists getting out of the bindings; and what had he to show for that? Merely the chance to briefly taser the goons and his murderer to death. So unsatisfying. Especially to find their plans for Rhys were a bust.

Boots were clomping down the hall. Ianto rolled his eyes. Sinking further into the murky water and hating that Jack had once again not listened about making a mess. Only taking off the shoes as he strips in the doorway.

“You weren’t invited,” he mumbles, noticing Jack freeze with his trousers around his ankles. Braces curled up like snakes in his greatcoat over the sink.

Ianto closes his eyes and hates this! This sensation of a job unraveling. Of him, unraveling.

Jack touches his chest and Ianto peers over the tub to find him kneeled close. Jack bends down to touch lips to skin. “I almost lost you.”

“Getting shot hurts like a bitch.”

Jack’s sharp laugh causes Ianto to glare and watch the mirth slowly fade.

Without warning, Jack moves quickly. Ianto’s body dragged from the still slightly tepid bath to land unceremoniously in Jack’s boxer-clad lap. Jack’s hands everywhere at once; skimming Ianto’s furry-dampened chest, up to his neck, through his curls. Lips owning him and tongue fucking his mouth, breathing hard through his nose.

Pulling himself back with difficulty, Ianto leans against the cold tub. “What the hell, Jack?”

Jack’s wild-eyed. Singlet and boxers soaked through. And a bit of blood clings to the corner of his mouth. Taking a swipe over his own lips, Jack’s gaze follows the furtive movement. Ianto tastes his blood and the sting of a cut. It’s so satisfying he does it again.

Crowding Ianto up against the bathtub, he notices Jack’s focused for the first time that day. “I thought-you got up so quickly-I heard, but-I didn’t see it hit-“ His disjointed fragments of rambling are a counterpoint to two of his fingers suddenly burrowing their way up inside Ianto. Ianto hadn’t even noticed him retrieving the water-proof lube from the little ledge. They tap insistently at his prostate and Ianto lunges to shut Jack up with his lips.

A harsh twist, the first contact with his nipples, and Jack’s fingers speeding up inside him. His knuckles punching his perineum. Ianto whines.

“Oh, I like that sound,” Jack grins down at him. “Let me hear it, again.” And Ianto does. As Jack’s teeth clamp down on his neck and worries the skin in his sharp eyeteeth. Scraping a nail over his nipple. He comes. Without his cock even being touched, he continues to wail, long and endless. Floating without the water around him.

And then Jack’s inside him! Ianto’s eyes pop open and he stares up at Jack. At his scrunched forehead, closed eyes, open mouth; lewd sounds tearing from his chest.

When Jack pushes forward, just a bit more, to make sure he’s all the way in and Ianto can feel him, Ianto reaches up to press shaking fingertips to the corner of his lips. “I’m sorry the game was ruined.” He can’t help but to lament in his afterglow. This fuck could have been full of victory, instead of loss.

Groaning, as Jack tugs himself back out, Ianto’s surprised to be turned around on his knees. Bent over the side of the tub, his hands directed into the water, which has now turned cold.

Jack seats himself back inside of Ianto. Keeping one hand on his waist, and one on the rim of the tub, Ianto can feel him leaning over and resting his chest to his back, creating warmth Ianto didn’t even know he needed.

“Rhys may keep his memories, for now,” Jack rocked leisurely. “But Gwen will know how unhappy the team is about that fact. She’ll be on the outs for a while, and we can focus on the other two. Rhys’ time will come with Gwen’s.” He begins to speed up and Ianto’s flaccid dick smacks into the cold side of the tub with every thrust. Groaning, Ianto attempts to brace himself to the best of his ability. “I have footage of Gwen and Owen in his car in the carpark, and in the med-bay, and snogging down by the cells. Maybe you should leak it for us, my little hacker. Really fuck-with-their-heads!” Ianto shouts with every harsh thrust that accompanies Jack’s words. Words that swirl and fog in Ianto’s mind as his hands slip across the bottom of the tub.

His face is close to the water, now. He can see the broken ripples of his pleasure-filled expression. The game isn’t done, after all!

Jack’s hand comes off his hip and he loses a bit of the stability that Jack’s grip bought him. But it dips below the water to join one of Ianto’s and holds on tight.

“Do you trust me?” He gasps in Ianto’s ear.

Without hesitation, he moans, “Yes!”

“Take a deep breath.” With little warning, the hand that Jack had braced on the tub was snagged in his hair and he was shoved under. Held there as he was forcefully rutted into. His forearms skidding across the porcelain on the bottom. Hips shoved higher, just over the lip of the bathtub. Presenting Jack with the best angle to slide deep inside.

It’s so good! Too good! The constant thrusts have Ianto spilling air that rises to bubble on the surface. He can’t help his reaction to push back into Jack in his search for more oxygen!

Just as his panic is about to abate and slide into darkness, Jack drags him up and out. Pulling his body to stretch along his own and groaning in his ear. “So hot, Ianto. You’re so hot. And so hard for me.” And Jack’s right. Ianto’s cock is pressed tight to his tummy. His body still recovering, all breathless and gasping. But so hard, once more.

“Would you like to go again, love?” Jack’s movements are fluid, precise. “Perhaps we should drown Rhys in front of Gwen? Or bring her to the brink of passing out again-and again-and again?”

“Yes!” Ianto shouts. To being deprived oxygen once more, to the new plans that they’ve inspired within each other for their playthings; to both. And Jack understands. Shoving him back under.

This time, Ianto moves right from the start. A wild thing; struggling and impaling Jack deeper inside of him. Jack’s really shoving his hips into the side of the tub and Ianto can’t wait to feel them throb in remembrance later.

When Jack drags him free, all limp limbs, his hand goes high up on his neck. Resting, curled, right under Ianto’s chin. Tilting his head back and making his body strain. Making Ianto take him.

Jack’s grip flexes. Cutting off circulation and the passageways to Ianto’s lungs. Forcing Ianto’s mouth to gape wide. Saliva running unhindered down his cheeks, prompting Jack to lick it from his jawline. “Come for me.”

He flies apart. Nothing is holding him anymore. Not even Jack. He’s completely undone under his ministrations.

When he comes to, he can’t remember how he got there, or how much time has passed. He’s laid out on the tile, cheek shoved against the cool floor, and cock nestled in the fuzzy bathmat. Over-stimulated and still being caressed. Jack’s body is poured over his, still thrusting rapidly, and Ianto doesn’t have much energy, but he attempts to clench back into every shove. Exciting Jack enough to make him hump Ianto’s backside quicker.

“Jack,” Ianto groans. Feebly, he reaches a hand back to slide over Jack’s sweat-soaked flank and Jack gasps.

“Is it too much?” He barely breathes between each push. “Is it too much, Ianto?”

“Make me really feel it,” he hisses.

Jack snakes a hand around his waist, taking Ianto’s hips higher, to give Jack better access, and Ianto keens at the deepest penetration he’s ever felt. Jack roars his release, even as he continues to thrust.

And Ianto’s leaking. From both sides. His dick hard, again, and showing that he’s still impossibly ready for more.

While he lets Jack recover behind him, Ianto swallows a few times. Each abuse of his throat beginning to show with a dull ache and gritty sand texture. But he’s not done for tonight. “Would you like to hear my ideas on Rhys and Gwen, while I suck your cock?”

Jack chuckles. High on endorphins and adrenaline, almost manic. “Let me drain the tub first. We can always bathe again, later.”

“All the time in the world,” Ianto agrees.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Everyone in the hotel had been Retconned. Bodies moved upstairs to their beds, bride tranquilized and given a ride back to the Hub. Her big damn hero dying after he killed the alien baby his wife insisted she carry until after the wedding day. No one being able to stop it in time. Wasn’t even planned.

Never mind what they’d tell everyone tomorrow as to why they can’t remember the wedding. And why one-half of the happy couple is no longer with the living. The large form lying up against the DJ booth wrapped in a spare blood spackled tablecloth. Waiting for Jack and Ianto to return it to the Hub morgue when done with clean-up. If they ever got around to it.

Jack’s braced over the bride and groom’s table, pants around his ankles, and Ianto’s tongue darting happily inside of him. Large hands holding him open. A nip to the furled entrance has Jack yelping in shock.

“Put it back inside,” he snarls, dangerously. Ianto chuckles and Jack moans in delight at the reverberation.

As Ianto puts that skilled muscle to good use, Jack lays out his changing plans. His head draped over his crossed arms. Tilted to the side and observing the slow crawl of a thin stream of blood across the dancefloor.

“Tosh and Owen will have to be next.” Ianto hums. “We’ll need to, ugh, prime Gwen again. Now that Rhys is, ah, gone.” Baring his teeth in pleasure, Jack laughs. “Drive her to madness,ohhhh-“ Ianto’s tongue is absolutely magnificent and one hand had crept down to cradle his balls. “If we have to-Fuck!”

Ianto stops completely and Jack feels a draft as he leans away. “Which one first?” His lovely Welsh vowels are thick with attraction.

“Mmm,” Jack rolls his forehead over the backs of his hands, savoring this feeling. “I’m thinking Toshiko. If we can make Owen feel responsible, all the better.”

When Ianto doesn’t continue, Jack turns around to find him still on his knees, staring up at him. Lips swollen and blood red.

Bringing Ianto up to rest against him, Jack gets a pretty picture in his head. “Wish we bought another wedding dress. I’d love to get under your skirt,” he leers.

Ianto simply rolls his eyes, unimpressed with Jack’s jibes, and slides a warm wet palm around him. Pumping him once, twice, and then taking that hand to his tongue, to mix pre-cum with all the other flavors of Jack already painting the inside of his mouth.

Flipping them around, Jack throws him on the table, feeling it shift below them. He tugs down Ianto’s form-fitting suit pants and rumbles a growl at finding both their shoes in the way. Preventing them from being completely naked.

Ianto laughs. Such a rare, real sound. All warmed scotch dripped slowly over ice. That sound does things to Jack!

Looming over his playmate, he places his hands beside his head. Seeing that smile undeterred, he eats at it, until Ianto swats him away.

One of Jack’s hands reach under to test the give down there with a thumb. Finding Ianto still has his clear plug in from that morning. When Jack had sucked him off and sent him screaming down the Hub, then teased him open. Until he could rock the piece of smoothed glass into his prostate and not have Ianto fight the sensations, any longer.

Pulling it free of its snug home, he threw it on the table, letting it land on a shiny place setting. Thick, red strawberry lube leaving a path as it spun.

Then, with only his generous pre-cum and warm leftover lube, he eased his way inside. Observing fondly, the way Ianto’s head thunks back into the table.

“I’ve got a present for you,” Jack murmurs, sweetly. His cock barely moving free before his hips surge softly back in place. “We can test it when we get home.”

Ianto _hmmms_ a little painfully. And though it feels so good for Jack, he reaches for the plug and slides his hand around the small toy. Smearing the residual lube around the base of his cock on a draw-out.

“You want your toy?” Jack teases.

Ianto’s brow scrunches and his muzzy eyes open to stare up at Jack in a daze. When his shiny lips part, Jack expects him to ask what it is.

Ianto mewls.

The rush of endorphins that sound generates in Jack has him growling, eyes darkening. He slams back in, watching Ianto’s eyelids flutter.

“You were right about those gloves coming in pairs.” Ianto gasps and Jack powers forward again. He’s not sure if Ianto’s responding to his actions or words. If he can even understand him. “How do you think Gwen will feel? Seeing her dead husband alive again?”

Ianto screams! His cock is coming, spouting between them. His balls drawn up tight to his body and pulsing. Jack holds himself in place, right on Ianto’s prostate. But has to stop moving. Has to breathe through the contractions, lest he come himself. And considering his stamina, _that’s saying something_ , he thinks; panting with the exertion.

Finally passing out from the pleasure, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, Jack can feel his own body pulling itself from the brink. He continues sliding. Ianto’s so loose, now. Letting Jack in without any tension in that wonderful body. He chuckles, “So good, Ianto. Always so good. Absolutely amazing.” He shakes his sweat-soaked fringe out of his face, but keeps pace. “So pretty. And just for me. I’m never going to let you go.” Even the words alone inspire him to give a few harsher thrusts to assert his claim.

His fingers find their way down to Ianto’s spend. Swirling patterns in the liquid and bringing them up to trace his mouth. Watching him bounce.

It’s not enough; never enough. Jack slides out for as little time as he can to arrange Ianto over his lap. Knees bracketing either side of Jack’s thighs and head resting on his shoulder. Seated in the groom’s chair. While the groom is lying dead in perfect view.

Unhurried and deliberate, he shoves his cock up into the body above him. Attempting to move Ianto with firm hands on his waist and every bit of energy he has left.

Nuzzling his ear, feeling Ianto finally shift and mumble above him, still coming back to him, Jack says, “I do.” Just as he fills him up.

As soon as he can no longer stay locked with Ianto, he’ll plug him back up. Ready to be played with upon their return to the Hub.

Gazing around the room, Jack can’t wait until Ianto tries out his gift. Things didn’t turn out so badly, after all.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Tosh is slowly draining out in her bathtub. And Ianto has such fond memories of bathtubs. This might even rate in his top ten, considering how much Jack likes the water. Not enough of it was safe on his home planet.

She’s too drunk to do much more than murmur her confusion and reach out twitching fingers for help. He wished he could have traced the veins in her arm with her kitchen knife. Snap them at will. Snap! Like cutting a thread; the thread to her life.

Ianto had come over to listen to her talk about Owen. It wasn’t anything new. He and Jack had laid out plans for just this occasion and the two of them leaving together for a bar had led them to her flat. She felt safe enough to consume alcohol around Ianto. As she stated many times before, _Ianto was too in love with Jack to do anything with her_. And though it was true, she also thought Ianto wasn’t his equal, his love, his everything. That part-time shag comment still lingered in the air between the whole team.

He’d recorded their conversations over the years. And she’d confided that she left a goodbye message for the team on Mainframe, in the case of her death. It would be nothing for Ianto to add in a few dark spots where she describes her worthlessness to the doctor and how he never noticed her.

It should send Owen to the darker side of life. Memories of Katie resurfacing in his grief of a suicidal teammate. And with Gwen due back at work after her grief period in only two days’ time, Tosh’s sudden demise would be perfect in fracturing the team. After all, Jack assured Ianto that her frequent phone calls and crying on his shoulder had brought her fire back. Jack cared for her, and that was enough, even in the face of the death of the man she claimed to love. She’d return, expecting the same doting and concern that her family and friends had heaped on her after Rhys’ “car accident”, and find a dead co-worker with no sympathy to be had for her woes. Gwen would heap guilt on Owen, as she’d done with Suzie, and he’d add to it himself. Whereas Jack would claim to send her body to her family, making an exception in Torchwood protocol.

And thinking about the devil, heralded him.

Jack took his favorite position. Chin resting on Ianto’s shoulder, hunched over him just slightly, coat flared around the two of them. He regarded the fire in their little dragon grow a bit brighter on seeing him.

“How long has she been here?” Jack chuckled. Tosh’s mouth moved ever so slightly, as if she wanted to answer him. Beg his assistance.

“Few minutes.” Ianto leaned back and felt the buttons of Jack’s shirt through the thin T-shirt he’d changed into. “Most true suicides can only drag the blade down one forearm, severing most of the muscles and tendons. Leaving a few false starts on the second arm before ripped flesh and blood loss kick in.”

“Any time for us to have some fun?” Jack licked a stripe up his neck and worried an earlobe.

Ianto notices Tosh crying, just a bit, as he shook his head. “We can’t leave DNA or evidence. Just in case Owen doesn’t turn to the bottle as quickly as we hope.”

The pout Jack gives is accompanied by a regretful rock into Ianto’s backside.

“Watch,” Ianto instructs. Just as Tosh loses her will. Her fight with consciousness causes her to slip under the bloody water.

“I should take you home and start a bath.” Ianto shakes his head again, this time truly regretful.

“We have to make sure her heart stops, Jack.”

Sighing, Jack rubs his face over Ianto’s clothed shoulder. “Should make you ride me. Bubbles and hot water and that massage oil smeared all over you. Watching you rise and fall over me.”

Ianto shudders in his hold, but smacks the errant hand that creeps closer to his heated cock. “That’s harassment, sir.”

Throwing back his head and laughing, Jack promises, “I’ll show you harassment when we get home.”


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Ianto’s laid out on his own play table. All tied-up and perfect, just for Jack. Gagged and struggling against his restraints.

Jack can’t wait to worship him. But only after the vibrator, nipple clamps, and sense dampeners have done their job. A cock ring as the cherry on top, to make sure he’s really sensitive. But Ianto needs this.

Once they figured out the other glove brought a person back with current wounds and not permanently, unlike Suzie, they’d had to downgrade their plans. And Ianto had a hard time with deviation. It took time for Jack to convince him that Rhys, with a big gaping hole in his guts, would have a more monstrous impact on Gwen. They’d had to keep him isolated, so he did no further harm to himself. Which meant, with Tosh in cold storage in an unmarked drawer, they’d have to wait to bring her back until they needed her.

“Isn’t he perfect?” Jack coos over his pretty toy. Circling the table and creating a slight draft with his coat flaring behind him, causing Ianto to shiver. Knowing he’s so close, but not close enough.

“You’re crazy,” Suzie spits, from her own table. “Moreso than I ever was.”

Jack simply laughs. “You were an amateur,” he dismisses. “Ianto’s the real deal.” Jack flicks the switch higher on the vibrator remote and wonders, idly, if he can find a fucking machine. Ianto deserves the best.

“A real whore, you mean!” She flings back. Jack freezes.

Without taking his eyes off his boy, he grabs the longer-lasting lube and squeezes a generous dollop in his palm. Giving Ianto something to whine about around his gag, pumping him slowly, before retreating and cleaning off his hands.

Finally turning to deal with Suzie, he’s always interested to find that her body lacks the heat her words steep in. Almost unresponsive, until he or Ianto begin their work, but her mouth never learns to stop. She truly reminds him of Gwen. However, Suzie got what she always wanted in the end. Life ever-lasting. And she gets to spend it with Jack and his wonderful playmate.

“Ianto’s my heart,” he murmurs, softly. Snatching a vial off Suzie’s toy tray, he inserts the needle in the rubber tip and makes sure there’re no air bubbles. Not this time. “You probably don’t even have one.” Her eyes grow wide in panic.

She knows very well he’s seen her heart. And he’ll see it again.

Injecting her quickly, striking fast, he makes sure the liquid shot anesthetic goes to work swiftly. Wouldn’t do to have her heart stop from the pain.

The blade is huge and made for hacking, but Jack doesn’t have the finesse his partner relies on. And it makes a satisfying ripping sound as it creates jagged wounds down her sternum and between her breasts. Cutting through all that muscle quite easy.

She’s screaming and if Ianto didn’t have the ear pieces from the shooting range in place, he’d probably feel left out that Jack’s taking their fun for the night. Such high and piteous squeals. Sobbing through the noise when her voice gives out.

Cracking her ribs is a piece of cake. A few snips of a large bolt cutter at the base of bones and the top pieces are gone. Enough to expose the sluggishly thumping organ in her decimated chest. Taking regular scissors to her protective lining and veins attaching it to her body, he watches her mouth drop open one last time. And it leaves the room blessedly silent, save the buzzing of Ianto’s vibrator.

Faking mock surprise, Ianto always claimed him to be dramatic to the extreme, he examines Suzie’s heart for the umpteenth time. “Guess you’ll just have to grow another. This one is a gift.”

Meanwhile, Ianto’s whines have reached a new level and Jack turns to see his blindfold damp with tears. He’d cum even with the cock ring in place.

Quickly flicking the switch off on his remote, with bloody fingers, Jack hurries over to remove the clasp on the silver instrument at the base of his cock. With Jack’s touch, Ianto’s cock jumps and spurts a few small blobs of cum, leaving him sobbing through the gag. He only loses the tenseness in his limbs when Jack slides the vibrator from Ianto’s stretched hole.

Jack undoes the rest of the restraints and toys, climbing on the table to hover over the wrung-out Welshman he’s flipped over to his back. Ianto’s eyes are closed, sensitive to the light. So he never notices Jack leaning closer, until it’s too late. Sucking Ianto’s flaccid, lovely dick down his throat and cleaning him up. Except for the bloody handprints he’s leaving on his hips.

When he’s hard once more, mush-mouthed pleas for Jack to stop falling from pretty, stretched lips, Jack places the heart on his chest; perfectly centered.

Ianto blearily blinks down at himself and gazes at Jack’s present. Hums in pleasure and makes grabby hands until Jack acquiesces his silent demand for a kiss. Heart held snug between the both of them.

“Can I take you, love?” Jack trails soothing kisses around his face, clearing away his tears with Jack’s adoration.

Ianto takes so long to agree that when he asks to sleepily, “Go slow,” Jack nods his agreement.

His hole is so puffed up, used well, that it takes Jack a few tries to rock in completely. Warm and slick and everything Jack holds dear. Watches him keen and writhe and cry and mumble out pleas.

Eventually, when Ianto lifts a palm to push Jack away, Jack kisses it, takes those fingers into his mouth and sucks on them. “My sweet thing,” he whispers over Ianto’s gasps of near-painful pleasure. “I could stay here in you, forever. Would you like that, sweets? Feeling me in you? Always near?”

“Please,” Ianto hiccups. “Please, please, please…”

Knowing Ianto’s reached his limits, Jack gently strokes his cock, helping him on his way to release as he holds himself still inside. Forcing him to come again. Poor boy is so tired; he can’t make much more noise but one of surprise, that there was anything left in his body.

Pulling out, tenderly, Jack knows this will be quick. Stroking with sure movements and Ianto’s body as his own centerfold. When Ianto grumbles a quiet, “Come, Jack,” he does. Harder than he could ever remember. His come shooting out to hit the heart on Ianto’s chest, along with his face, and dying off to splatter on his stomach.

Heaving for breath and attempting to hold himself up over Ianto, not letting their bodies touch for fear of too much in Ianto’s case, he hears a large indrawn breath of air on the other side of the room. Suzie’s woken once more. And Jack grins.

He’ll get to kill her again, for seeing Ianto like this. As his.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Ianto’s standing behind Tosh’s chair when Jack drags Owen in.

Tosh had cried so hard when she woke up to find this wasn’t a dream. She was alive, with her arm still split open. Ianto was as impassive as he’d been when standing over her in her tub. And Suzie, her long-dead teammate, was once more on her table.

Now, she appeared hysteric. Owen being lashed down to the chair across from her.

Jack approached, with the last wrist tied down, and gave Ianto a triumphant kiss. “He was still drinking as Gwen left.” Ianto moaned and opened his mouth as Jack’s tongue traced his lips. “Gave him some of his own medicine, so I’m sure he’ll come around in a few minutes.”

Suzie was silent; gagged and glaring, as this wasn’t her party. She was just a prop. Tosh’s hitched breaths hinted that she thought she couldn’t produce anymore tears. Ianto would show her just how amazing the human body could be.

“Should we drown him off the pier? Make sure his body gets caught up in a net so he’ll be found and turned over?” Jack bounces ideas into the air and Ianto’s ear. “All the fun in the world, finally ours.”

_It has merit_ , Ianto agrees silently. But, as he’s noticed around Jack, plans always change. And he has to learn to change with them. Moaning, brings their combined eyes to Owen. Even Tosh quiets.

“Wha’ tha ‘ell?” He mutters. His skin is pasty, paler than usual, and his throat seems to be struggling to swallow. “Wha’?” Glaring through the strain on his red-rimmed eyes, he spots Tosh.

His intake of breath is broken and small.

“Owen,” she pleads with him. She shakes her head at his state and Ianto observes it all clinically. He imagines, if he were in one of their places and Jack in the other, that he would be calm. Collected. Preparing himself for whatever happens next.

Does Jack wish him to show this sort of emotion in the face of helplessness? Even if it’s not within him? Human emotion has always eluded him. And seeing it played out in front of him is fascinating.

“No,” Owen’s moaning. Saying it repeatedly as if to make it true. But a clang of Suzie’s table has his head turning to see her as well. Perfectly placed at an angle for her to take in the show.

Their doctor retches and heaves, and finally spews all over the floor beside him. In between he and Suzie. Vomit-tinged spittle hanging from his lips.

“Just the medicine going to work,” Jack comments. He steps away from Ianto and back towards Owen with sure steps. “Give it another minute and I think you’ll find your mind clearing.”

Owen is sick once more, groaning with the expulsion of ethanol-laced liquid from his insides.

“Owen, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Tosh mutters. _No, it’s really not_ , Ianto shakes his head where she can’t see.

“Wha’ is this?” Owen’s eyes are flicking back and forth. Bloodshot and growing frantic. “Jack, wha’s goin’ on?”

His words continually slur and drop as the drug leaves him. But Ianto’s pleased to see him finally getting the picture of his plight.

“Do you know how long we had to wait just to bring her back?” Jack gestures at Tosh. “Ianto was getting quite cross. Suzie’s grown stale after all this time with us.”

“You shouldn’t talk ill of the dead, Jack,” Ianto prompts him. Jack merely flashes him a wry smile.

“You’re crazy.” Owen’s voice shakes, gradually getting louder. “You’re both crazy! You said they were dead! What the hell have you done, Jack?”

Practically dancing over to Suzie’s prone form, Jack grabs the Life Knife he’d brought down just for tonight. “Of course she’s dead!” And with that announcement, he brought the knife down. Enjoying both of their screams of terror.

Tosh began to wail, rocking in her binds. And Owen proceeded to sick up on himself.

“But like all good toys should, she’ll come back. And so will the both of you.” He and Jack had discussed their predicament with only the one regeneration with their second glove. Better for their playthings to think it would never end, than let on.

Ianto was pleased to find that Owen finally understood. He wants to start with him.

He strides over to a few of the newer acquisitions he and Jack have squirreled away over the past months. Rift debris and junk from foreign aliens that crash landed. He chooses the seemingly innocuous cube made of a green-tinged alloy. It has openings on all sides that gape and close with the push of a button.

Hefting the metal in his hands, he goes to kneel in front of Owen and carefully slips the binds on one ankle. Owen’s too sluggish to respond properly and Ianto is easily able to slide the piece in place, up to the knee. Closing the two openings over his joint.

“I don’t-get the fuck away from me!” He struggles, as Ianto ropes him down once more.

“Now, now,” Jack saunters closer, after removing the Life Knife from Suzie’s chest. “After everything you’ve ever done to my Ianto, you should have known this was coming.”

Ianto nodded absentmindedly, wondering if this injury could be passed off as accidental or post-mortem. If the body was given back to them, then of course it could…

“You always said I was ‘just a part-time shag.’ But I’m important to Jack, you see.”

“Of course you are,” Jack croons. His hands sliding over Ianto’s shoulders.

Owen sneers. “Shirt-lifters. Both of yas!”

Before Ianto can do more than blink, Jack’s hand arcs through the air over his head and strikes Owen’s cheek. A solid backhand that leaves his chin hanging down his chest.

“Just because you had to drug your dates, doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be spiteful, Owen,” he chides him. “And I know for a fact that you had your fair share of men. At least I don’t rape my partners.”

For his lecherous ways, and to show him who’s in charge, Ianto rises and moves around Jack to their resident tech genius. They’ll need another eventually, to keep Torchwood going and the bodies rotating their way through their playroom.

She whimpers as he draws near and pleads, “Ianto, you don’t have to. You don’t-Ah!” The finger bones are delicate. And the lack of strength in her already mangled arm allows Ianto the ability to bend two back with ease until they snap and crunch.

“Get the hell away from her!” He can hear Owen struggling behind him. Whilst Tosh’s fingers jerk and spasm independently of her will.

Ianto considers the request, fascinated with this game. “Would you take her place? Endure, so she won’t have to?”

“What?” His voice lowers and trembles.

“It’s a simple question,” Jack repeats. “Either you take the pain, or she does.”

Shakily, he watches Tosh. She’s trying so hard not to look at her own hand. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah…okay.”

Shrugging, not caring either way, Ianto lopes back over. Squatting down and activating the trash compactor slotted around his kneecap.

“What is that thing?” Owen bravely attempts to ask, but shakes, nevertheless. It makes an almost subsonic hum as it starts up. For all outward appearances, not doing anything. But Owen jerks and scrapes his chair, and Ianto knows it’s working properly.

His screams ricochet around the room. Eerie and haunting. His knee creates terrible sucking and munching sounds. Until the device stops. Blood, thick and dripping down his calf. Owen’s body goes limp.

“That’s too bad,” Ianto muses. He’d had a Hoix last longer at T1.

Jack snickers at his response. “Don’t worry. It’s not the end of him. And we’ve got more than one plaything down here, you know. Don’t be greedy.”

“I’m not greedy.” But he can feel himself sulking, ever so slightly.

Jack’s rummaging around in their toys and Ianto’s intrigued to see how he handles this. Patience was never his strong suit. However, he’s pleasantly pleased to find him emerging with two bamboo shoots.

“Now,” Jack’s coat flew out to puddle behind him, as he rocked on his heels and crouched to pick up one of Tosh’s feet. “Bamboo shoots were reportedly used to torture prisoners, dissenters, and the like as early as the 19th century. Though, there were always skeptics on how a plant could grow to impale a person in only days.” Whimpering, Toshiko attempted to yank her foot away, even as Jack held fast. “I can tell you, it’s a not a pleasant way to go. But I don’t have that sort of time.” Jack snorted at his own joke. Ianto moved over to adjust his line of sight and noticed Jack stick the whittled plant under one toenail.

Tosh’s shriek was high and brief. As her toenail dropped to the ground beside her sole. The blood welled up, almost as an after-thought. Dotting through the delicate membrane before flooding the wound left behind.

Jack moved on to the next. “It’s so inventive! To kill with the Earth, with your own plant-life! My home-planet didn’t have much of that, you see, and what we did have didn’t grow with the same alacrity. But these things are ingenious!”

Tears were squeezed out of her closed eyes, her head tilted back so as not to watch. Even if she escaped from her bonds, she’d have a hard time leaving. Every footfall would be agony and create a trail of blood back to her.

Jack managed to finish one foot and had moved on to the big toenail of the second, when Owen’s voice penetrated her sniveling. “Stop.”

Ianto took in his anguish. Wheezing breaths and sweat dotting her hairline and upper lip. Leg shaking and blood finally stopped soaking the area around him, sealed in place with the same device that had damaged him irreparably.

“You heard the man, Jack.” Even as his partner stood, done for now, with the one nail held in his hand, to be turned over and fall to the floor in front of her. “Are you going to stay awake this time, Owen?”

Retrieving some rope, Ianto goes about tying off each thigh, made difficult with the restraints already in place. “Can’t have you bleeding out before the fun starts. I like my toys to last,” he confides.

Owen glares through the fog of shock and blood loss. But refuses to rise to the bait. Ianto hopes his silence won’t continue. Slipping his hand in his pocket, he pulls out a garlic press and presents it to Owen by waving it in front of his nose.

“I think I’m going to follow Jack’s example. Let’s see if you’re at least more resilient than a Drahvin.”

“Oooh, Drahvins,” Jack exclaimed. “Haven’t seen one of them in some time. When did you get the chance to work with one?”

“They were off course from Drahva, after doing a deal with some Aridians. Shame those weren’t on board when they crashed. Torchwood One offered the others a space with us.” Ianto smiled at Owen as he spoke. Beginning with the littlest toe, and squeezing the appliance with all his strength.

He had chosen Owen’s already damaged leg, but was disappointed to only hear a strangled scream stuck in his throat, behind tightly-pressed lips. And quick breaths jettisoning from his nostrils that might lead to hyperventilation.

Switching tactics, he put the garlic press around a big toe, on the opposite leg, and squeezed. Infinitely more blood, better chomp of bone; Owen reacted wonderfully.

“You have to stay awake,” Ianto chides him. “Or we’ll only switch over. We get bored so easily.” Jack laughs and makes Ianto shiver. _Later_ …

Owen lasts through Ianto randomizing his pick of toes, until there are only two left. But Tosh is the one to call a halt to his fun.

“Enough.”

She’s got snot dripping from her nose. Breathing labouredly through an open mouth that she’s bitten through in her thrashing.

“My turn, again?” The Captain’s tone is as bouncy as he is. Owen moans a negative that they both ignore.

Without deigning to give them a response, she tries to look through Ianto to the toy seated behind him. “I’m already gone, Owen,” she shivers. “I’ve already been gone. It’s okay…”

“What will you choose this time?” Ianto prompts. He’s not impassioned by her statement, but neither is he unimpressed. What will it take to break her?

“I feel like we have a theme going. How does cooking sound?” Ianto turns his head to regard Jack’s new toy and feels a laugh bubbling up from his chest.

“Is that sonic?”

“Yup!” Jack copies Ianto’s signature remark, giving him a salacious wink. “Sonic dermal laser. Or it’s been recalibrated to become one. Got the idea during the Year we don’t speak of.”

Ianto nods, thoughtfully, really giving Jack the floor and his consideration. The futuristic playboy truly does know his way around technology.

As Jack begins to fry the skin around Tosh’s forearms, wafting the room in aromas of cooked meat, Ianto has to turn away. Some days the smell reminds him of his own playing. On others, the stench brings back the moment his playing could have ended early. Forever. In an abattoir without Jack.

And he notices eyes on their performance. “Awake, now?” He drifts over to Suzie’s table. Leaning closer, as if to tell a secret, he whispers, “Which one will last longer than the other?” When she merely holds his gaze and doesn’t attempt to speak around the gag, Ianto grabs the spare bamboo shoots that Jack hadn’t nicked down to splinters. “No comment? Shame.”

He’d have his own fun setting up Suzie’s torture for the next few days, while Jack broke his toy.

And break his toy, he does.

The sonic dermal laser hadn’t been as much fun as he’d thought. So, Jack had moved on to an alien fruit picker. To take out her eyes. Only the mechanism went so far back into the socket that it cut all connection to the re-animated brain, and they lost their toy early.

Even as Jack had pouted, Ianto hadn’t let on to Owen that they’d never be able to continue with her. Simply made a quip about, _always having to tidy up after you, Owen_ , and swept over to him with lye and antiseptic. Letting Jack join in.

“Sorry, I went too far,” Jack apologizes, again. “Thought I had the setting right on that damn thing!”

Dragging the connected hose over to Owen’s slumped body, Ianto fits the piece in place over his mouth and shoves it down his throat until he hears the trachea crunch. “Its fine, Jack. We’ll just bring Owen back, anyway."

What of Owen they do bring back will be even more horrifying than Rhys, though. An added shattered hipbone, sternum, and half his face flayed with Ianto’s careful precision. He turns the water pressure up and floods the lungs. Owen doesn’t even twitch.

“I’m still sorry.” Jack’s looking around their room. Toys dead and blood thick in the air. Suzie refusing to give them the attention this scene deserves, peering up at the ceiling with tears rolling down into her ears, from gravity.

Seeing that Jack really does appear contrite, Ianto thinks quickly. “Well, Sir,” he clears his throat. “If you want forgiveness.” He motions to the floor right in front of him.

It takes Jack only seconds to get it. Always willing to have more fun. Before he drops to his knees in front of Ianto and reaches for his zipper. He holds himself out for Jack, more than ready to be sucked by that talented mouth, but Jack catches him off guard. Forcefully turning him around and against the end of Suzie’s table. Putting that talented tongue to use, instead.

“Jack,” he protests, pushing back in protest instead of pleasure. His chin hangs down, giving him a view of Suzie’s feet right next to his clenched hands. “Let’s go somewhere else, cariad. Not-ohhhh!” Jack’s reached around to pump his cock. The head hitting the cool metal of the table with every upward twist of Jack’s warm hands.

Jack’s made him. Put him together in such a way that the violence they’d indulged in has already pushed him to his limit. With Jack’s strong tongue slicking his insides, those sharp teeth nipping at his hole, and that rough hand around his hardness, he can feel himself teetering on the edge of that little darkness.

In the end, all it takes is to look away from Suzie and be greeted with the sight of Owen’s body. Water starting to trickle down his chin. And he comes.

His Captain begins to finger his swollen hole, but Ianto’s with the program now. This is Jack’s show. “If you want to fuck me,” he swallows past too much build-up of saliva. “You better do it now!”

A quick slap to his arse and Jack pushes him up under both cheeks, depositing Ianto’s body on Suzie’s. He can feel her squirm underneath of him, furious and terrified. He’d tell her that they weren’t into rape, if he could only find the words. Because Jack has clambered up behind him and is sliding home.

Suzie would spit if she could. Slap and rake nails, hurl abuse and objects their way. Jack takes care of that problem. Groping for a scalpel on the tray near her head and slicing through the base of her neck. Showering him and Ianto in her blood with that first arterial spray. Ianto groans.

“You’re sick,” he gasps. His body is jostled into her corpse, blood still warm and seeping through Ianto’s ever-present suit. Cock firming up once more.

“You love it,” Jack growls. His teeth tearing into the skin on the base of Ianto’s neck, causing him to shout.

And Jack is right. He does love Jack. And all his wonderful ideas.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few hints of dialogue from Season Three that I thought fit pretty well in this story. But nothing major...

Gwen had been attempting to recruit others. Trying to take over for him, their Captain. As if his fake mourning was debilitating enough for her to lead them. Which has given Jack enough time to notice that she’s not too broken-hearted. Didn’t even question the autopsy that Ianto proclaimed he had done and put Owen to rest. No, she’d realized she wasn’t getting Jack’s shoulder to cry on again. So she’d tried to usurp his position.

But that just made it more fun. Even if it was time to finally end this game.

She’s gagged in her chair. Jack has Ianto in front of him, cradled to his body, and he’s jerking him off like a champ. He’s already come once, by Jack’s quite spectacular mouth, if he does say so himself. However, they have to kill time, somehow. He grins at himself, but knows better than to share the joke with Ianto. He’s got him right where he wants him. Brushing up against his groin with the euphoria Jack’s creating in him.

For they’ve been waiting for Gwen to wake. In the chair Owen once used, a nice dark egg growing on the side of her head from the butt of Jack’s Webley. He’d found her in his high-back chair, at his desk, going through his things. Ianto had wanted to throw the damn thing in the furnace, but it was Jack’s favorite spot. They’d done some amazing things in that specific piece of furniture. He’d allowed him to wipe it down, instead.

As she wakes, showing signs of confusion and a headache, Jack redoubles his efforts until Ianto squirms once more and moans out his name. Bringing Gwen’s eyes flying to meet his. Perfect.

Jack bares his teeth, in the parody of a smile, and rests Ianto, all weak-kneed, in the seat behind them. Tosh’s past seat, he notes fondly. And it’ll be Rhys’ in just moments, once Ianto recovers.

Striding across the room, his erection uncomfortable in his slacks, he takes away her gag and observes she’s at a loss for words for once.

“Are you still all there?” He taunts.

Her nose scrunches up, in indignant fury. _Not as cute as Ianto’s_ , Jack sighs to himself.

“What are you doing?” She demands of him. Him! “Let me go, Jack! Have you really lost your mind?”

Ignoring her need to know what she believes to be important, Jack asks his own question. “Haven’t you wondered how you were the last one standing?”

Her anger dies away, replaced with the previous confusion she’d felt upon waking. “I-I mean-what do you-“

“You’ve survived longer than the others,” he rephrases. He expects her to ask what this conversation has to do with anything. To finally show emotion for her dead co-workers. But as her eyes light up, Jack notices his mistake.

Even as he’s taken aback, he laughs. Throwing his head and neck back into the great booms of sound.

“I have survived more than the others.” Gwen and Suzie. Suzie and Gwen. _Two of a kind_ , he nods fondly. Gwen sees it as acceptance. “I’m good at this job. No! I’m great at it! None of the others could have lasted as long as me! I-“

Spinning on his heel, he meanders over to Ianto’s slumped body. “She’s not very bright.” He comments off-handedly, running his fingers through Ianto’s hair. His boy hums and rests his cheek against his covered cock. Those rumbling words tumbling out to reverberate against him, “No, she’s really not.”

Jack groans, imagining how malleable Ianto is, at this moment. And decides, if Gwen’s going to die anyway…

He manages to get a sleepy Ianto in position, on his knees, with Jack taking the recently vacated chair. He lowers his braces and pulls himself out. Noticing Gwen’s eyes go wide.

“I’ve always known you’ve panted after me.” Jack’s eyelids lower, in his lust. “But this is all for Ianto.” Making Ianto latch on with his sweet words, causing Jack’s head to fall back to let his sounds of enjoyment escape into open air.

All slack lips, hint of teeth, so hot and wet and barely any gag reflex. Ianto’s already fucked out. But this was so good.

“He’s wonderful,” Jack praised his boy to Gwen. Palming the back of his head in encouragement. It has the desired effect of compelling Gwen to watch them. Swallowing so loudly Jack can hear her over Ianto’s enthusiastic slurps and seeing her cross her legs as much as her binds allow. “I can smell you from here.” And it’s not in any way true, but it serves to bring a humiliated flush to her cheeks.

He brings Ianto in until his nose brushes Jack’s curls. He doesn’t even struggle. Just suckles until Jack sighs and lets himself come. When he’s regained his breath, as Ianto cleans up any spilled drops, Jack chuckles and turns his attention to her, once more. “You’ll never get to be where my Ianto is.”

Leaning down to bring Ianto into a gentle kiss, he guides him to stand and cocks his head to the side. “Ready?”

“More than, Sir,” Ianto smirks.

It takes the both of them to lift the large sod from his spot in the corner behind Gwen, and walk him the distance to the chair. After being in isolation for so long, the great idiot is not altogether there, anymore. A prop for their last plaything.

“Rhys!” His presence wakes her from her fugue. “Rhys! What’s going on? Jack, what is he doing here? How did you-Rhys!”

There’s no need to lash him down. His hands are tied for show, and a gag firmly between his teeth, but he doesn’t even struggle.

“The patch-up wasn’t a success,” Jack laments, pulling apart the shredded suit for Gwen to see clearly. His insides, all rust red and mouldy black, barely being held inside with clear tape. “But that’s alright. He’s not long for this world. He was, however,” Jack shakes a finger, in childish reprimand, her way. “Very interested in the CCTV of you and Owen that Ianto and I had on file. Made for some fun rainy nights.”

She’s attempting to topple her chair, face red and hair hanging over her cheeks. “I’ll kill you for this, Jack! You can’t do this! You’re a monster! A real monster! We should have been hunting you all this time! I’ll-“

Her tirade peters out as Ianto glides his favorite scalpel up to the corner of her eye. _He always hated the mouth on her_ , Jack attributes to his break of character in their game.

“How would you like me to kill you?” His tone indicates he could very well be asking her pastry order. “Cut out your tongue and let you choke on your own blood? Or just go right for ripping your jaw out of your face. I almost managed to get the whole lower piece off that cannibal you so wanted to speak to, before he died on me. Would you like a go?”

Her eyes are wide and tears are spilling over, as she tries not to blink or move in fear of the sharp blade touching her skin. Turns him on something powerful to hear Ianto talk of killing her. Making a mess out of her.

“Because the only way I’ll stop, is if you prove you’re worth Jack’s love.” _Say what?_ “He’s so good! How he takes control and shows me things I’d never even dreamt of. Promises to show me things I’ve never seen. And he’s never lied. All that knowledge about what will be and come to pass. You’ve lasted so much further than the others, and you can last longer. You just have to prove yourself to me. To Jack.”

And for Jack’s part, he doesn’t understand where this is going. They had a plan! But he’s loathe to break this spell Ianto’s weaved. Gwen’s tears all dried up and eyes dilated. Panting up at the strong figure of Ianto towering over her.

“All you have to do,” he glides the blade down to the corner of her lips. “Is kill Rhys.” She sucks in a trembling breath. Her eyes are about to refocus, Jack can tell. There’s no way she could take a human life. _Hasn’t she before_ …“You could still be the longest surviving member of Jack’s Torchwood.”

If they can pull this off…

Jack slowly circles around to skim his fingers over the palms of her hands roughly tied behind her back. Crouches down to whisper in her ear, watch her hair sway with the force of his breath. “We need to find new people to play with.” Meeting Ianto’s eyes, in the shared understanding that after her, they’ll be on the hunt again. “And Rhys is already dead. Already gone. There’s no one home. You’d be putting him out of his misery. You’d be surviving! You, Gwen Cooper, the last Torchwood Agent standing.”

It takes prompting, lots of poisonous words, especially to make her forget that Ianto is right in front of her, not going anywhere. That they’ve already told her she would never get her hands on Jack. And even after she agrees, it takes some time to shore her up again, once released.

She walks unsteadily, drunk on emotions and waning adrenaline. Jack keeping Ianto out of harms’ way with his own body as a shield. In case, she decides to turn on her captors. When her footsteps falter, Jack chides her in remembering that Jack will just come back, and Ianto is armed. Wouldn’t she like to play with them?

When she stabs, oh Jack could just kiss Ianto, at the beauty of it all! She doesn’t hit her mark. Hands trembling and arms barely moving high enough, leaving the blade to sink deep in the base of the neck between the clavicle bones and above the sternum.

Rhys’ body reacts, giving the impression of emotion. Eyes growing in his face, tongue rolling back in the mouth and choking him, hands almost rising as they twitch. Gwen shrieks and panics, pulling the blade free and Jack moves.

Reaching around her to drag her arms into the small of her back, hearing the blade tinkle to the ground, and holding her struggling body as the light leaves her ex-fiance’s eyes. Using her for a shield to collect the blood that spurts from the gaping slash.

She’s crying, sagging against him. “Thank you,” Jack sighs. Such a beautiful game. He licks up a bit of the blood that streaks her face, run through with her tears. So salty and rich.

“That’s unhygienic, Jack,” Ianto scolds.

Grinning, Jack reminds him, “We’ve had worse. Besides, even if he has anything, it won’t hurt us permanently.”

“What now? I did change the game,” Ianto admits. Jack finds it cute that he’s almost wringing his hands in front of him, as if he’d done wrong.

“It was inspired,” Jack whispers, feeling the body in his arms fall. He had to adjust his stance to keep her upright, as her sobs rocked through her. “You were inspiring! Making her take a life, like that. Making her take his life. Perfect ending for our beat cop.” Her hushed puffs of breath slowly taper off. And Jack observes a real-life blush make its way down Ianto’s pale skin. Disappearing beneath his suit collar. Jack wants to know just how far down it goes.

“We should bring out the others, next. Even if we don’t have Toshiko.” With that lovely splash of pigmentation presenting itself to Ianto’s skin, Jack can’t seem to care about his past mistake. “Get over here,” he bites out.

A coy smile, and Jack finally has Ianto in reach to lean over Gwen’s unconscious body and take advantage of Ianto’s delicious lips. Until Ianto bites his lower lip and licks his teeth.

“Don’t get me hard while I’m holding her,” Jack chides, groaning at all that red. “If you’re up for some PDA, I’ll fuck you in front of them.”

At Jack’s vehement promise, Ianto shivers, and whispers, “Please.”


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Ianto’s not completely sure, but Jack hasn’t done him wrong, yet. And having Suzie, Owen, and Gwen all tied-up and gagged, ready to watch Jack fuck him like his fingers are currently doing, his previous orgasms still floating around him pleasantly; well, he’s pretty sure this will be amazing!

Owen’s plenty broken. Can’t speak for the crushed trachea before his re-animation. But he’s aware, unlike Rhys had been, and they’ll get one more death out of him.

Suzie’s also awake, taken out of storage once more. She’s trying not to look, gazing down into her lap, where’s she’s fitted tight to a chair for once, instead of her table.

Jack has them in his office. Out of their playroom. And Ianto over his desk, just like the first time.

He’s kneeling up on it, the wood unforgiving beneath him, as Jack’s fingers pump in and out of him. Nice and slick. His body is displayed lengthwise, for the others to see his strong arms holding himself up, his fluttering stomach muscles, generous length bobbing below him, and shivering legs pushing back against Jack. They’d agreed that Ianto would eventually be allowed to lay flat and not quite as exposed. But this is Jack’s time…

Sure enough, Gwen snorts and murmurs behind her gag, over in her corner, and Jack smacks a rapidly reddening arse cheek. “Down.”

Wiggling his arse off the side of the wooden behemoth, Jack helps him over behind the desk, covering his bits for the time being, and pushing him over the desk pad.

“You should enjoy this,” Jack’s fingers run softly across Ianto’s hole a few more times; teasing. Ianto grunts in annoyance and impatience. Jack shouldn’t be so focused on their audience. “Not just anyone gets to see Ianto in this state.”

Almost regretting giving in to this scene, Ianto cuts off what he was sure was going to be a lot of tedious foreplay. He scoffs, “The number of people is actually going up quite a bit lately, Sir.”

Immediately, Ianto gets what he wants. Jack snarling and shoving up into him. Dizzying spots dancing in Ianto’s eyes.

His hips smacking into Ianto’s backside as he menacingly hisses out, “This won’t be quick.” And oh, Ianto is well aware of how long Jack can go when he wants to.

Jack squelching in and out of him fills the room. Ianto can’t even look up to see the reactions of his ex-coworkers. Each garbled uh, uh, uh, that leaves his lips and has him crashing back down to the desk on every crest of Jack’s thrust is taking him over. He’s already come twice tonight, Jack’s prepped him more than enough, and he’s gone!

Waking in Jack’s arms; lovely. Wound around his chest and holding him up in his chair. The same chair that he’d been talked out of destroying, thankfully. His head buried in between Ianto’s shoulder blades, tongue dancing over the center of his spine. And who knew that was an erogenous zone? Jack’s legs bracket his, pushing his thighs together, so that Ianto can feel every vein of Jack’s cock. He’s so tight around him…

Reaching back, Ianto pulls Jack’s head around for a sloppy, stretched kiss. Knowing both their lower halves are hidden behind the desk now, Jack moves his arms down to hook under Ianto’s knees. Slinging them over the arms of the chair and holding them there as he moves into Ianto with more speed. Still bouncing him in place. And Ianto keens, feeling the head of Jack’s cock hit his prostate every time and his abs protesting the position.

“Jack, please, come.” Ianto twines his arms behind his head to get his hands on any skin he can reach. “Come in me.”

Taking a small bite to the side of his neck, Jack just chuckles. Addressing his audience and ignoring the plea, “Love to string him out. No other feeling of bliss like it.”

Ianto knows he’s still nowhere near done when he slides Ianto off his lap and turns him to sit on the writing pad. Smoothing a palm down Ianto’s furry chest, a nail catching on a nipple, as he guides Ianto’s body into position. Gently working his legs over his shoulders.

Ianto’s head falls back over the side of the desk and he can’t help the moan that shudders out of him. And it’s only partly for the sensation of Jack prodding his opening again.

He can see them, now. The resignation in Suzie’s face, of being a participant, no matter how unwilling again. The disgust in Owen’s sneer, the skin around his mouth bruised and pulling ugly on the peeled away skin. And Gwen’s riveted attention to the place where Jack is once again entering his body.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Jack demands, possessively. Heavy, his head is so heavy, when he lifts it to gaze up at Jack. As soon as his neck clears the edge of the desk, Jack slides his body onto his cock, letting his head rest on the wooden support.

Jack lifts again, Ianto’s hips melded to Jack’s body, held off the warm wood. And Jack bounces him in place. His lower body weightless in Jack’s strong hands.

Ianto’s fingers scrabble over the desk, almost overturning the lamp on the edge, before he holds the lip he’d been previously draped over. His arms above him and showing off long lines of skin to Jack’s greedy eyes.

“So happy to have found you.” Jack’s only focused on him, now. “My beautiful boy.” Ianto can feel it building again. “I’ll never let you leave me.” So close, another hit to that bundle of nerves inside him. “Only I get to see you like this, my love.” And Ianto shakes apart. Flying into the darkness. Finally wanting to return. To Jack.

Jack; the first face he sees, when opening his eyes. Moving over him, still inside him. Beginning to set a vigorous pace, now that Ianto can feel it. And gods, can he feel it!

The Captain’s panting, sweat dripping down his chin to land on Ianto. “Want me to come inside you? Mark you? Make you mine?” The snap of skin hitting skin still sounds like it’s coming from underwater, for Ianto, all fuzzy and warm. But Jack’s words are surround sound. “You’re mine. Going to be mine forever.”

“Forever.” Ianto exhales.

But that doesn’t seem to be enough for Jack, _all those people who’ve left him over the years_ , Ianto remembers sadly. So, he weakly reaches up for one of Jack’s tears, disguised as perspiration, and whispers again, “Forever.”

Licking the pad of the finger Ianto brings down with moisture attached, Jack ruefully grins, “I’ll find a way to kill you if you ever try to leave me.” And an orgasm surprises Ianto in its sudden appearance.

He’s yelling, coming dry, clenching around Jack’s cock, almost strangling him and Jack roars. Cursing and stuttering deep inside, losing his rhythm. In time, his teeth unclench, letting loose a faltered breath of satisfaction. As he moves his soft cock through his own cum, stimulating and painting Ianto’s hole with himself before he slides out with Ianto’s spasms. Still in his own aftershocks.

Ianto can hear a drawer open beside his legs, and is pleasantly surprised to feel his plug being worked into him. His body isn’t usually ready to be closed after being open for so long.

Warm, rough fingers trace his cheekbones, his parted lips. “I have another treat for you.” Jack’s always generous. “You get to decide how they die.”

Once Ianto is snugly wrapped in Jack’s coat, on Jack’s throne, he lets his Captain loose.

Suzie is easy. He and Jack have both grown tired of her. Bored, if you will. Another slit throat to get her out of the way and the others to watch her long-suffering splutters until she’s gone.

Owen, Ianto manages to remember, had a very hated piece of tech in the office. Ianto reminding Jack he’d find it in the Secure Archives set in the wall. The two parts of their quantum transducer.

They’d wondered if Owen would see his own death, be able to tell them exactly how they should kill him. Only, after Jack had fitted the device in his hands, his eyes had clouded, fingers unresponsive and dropping the tech to the floor. The light had left his eyes. Pity.

Gwen tries to talk behind her gag. Fear shining clear, as her head swivels between Owen, and Jack, and Ianto.

“Well, think we broke him,” Jack huffed. Hands on his hips and brow furrowed.

Ianto hmms. “His brain?” Almost tempted to go over and check, if his legs would support him.

“It’s an improvement,” Jack agrees. Braindead is a fitting end for their doctor.

Having had time to think of Gwen’s penultimate ending, Ianto blithely swings the chair by the tips of his toes on the cold floor. “Really liked that movie we watched the other night, The Abyss.” His eyes flicker to Gwen, wondering if she’d figure out the game.

Jack grins over his shoulder at him. “Oh, yeah.” His fingers key in the code to Secure Archives again. “Thought you’d get a kick out of that. I have just the thing.”

Opening a containment box, he hefts out a ‘garden hose green’ spout, not attached to anything. Throws it to the desk near Ianto for him to examine, as he crawls down to his bunker. A medium-sized metal tub fits its way through the hole in the ground before Jack follows.

“Right now, liquid ventilation may only work on small animals,” he lectures, putting his hand out for the obviously alien invention. “But in the future, it’ll become a necessity. So much to explore out in the deep blue.”

The spout’s handle is manipulated in Jack’s hand until clear liquid flows freely from it. Filling up the tub sat at Gwen’s feet. Ianto’s intrigued, despite himself, that the water truly appears benign, unlike the cinematic pink.

Gwen struggles as Jack lifts her out of her seat and shoves her to the floor. Without the expected show Jack would usually put on, he whips the gag out of her mouth and dunks her under.

She flails, water sloshing over the sides, hands trapped between herself and the tub.

Ianto licks his lips at the sight. “Can that device constantly churn out breathable liquid? No limit? You know, for later.”

Jack gives a lecherous flash of teeth as Ianto repeats his swipe of tongue. Making his lips shine. All his focus on Ianto instead of Gwen’s slowing form. She didn’t seem to catch on. Her panic suffocating her, instead of the water. “Scientists in the future fixed the trouble they had with eliminating carbon dioxide. Makes it so that the lungs can easily expel the liquid and recover. If you’re up for it.” Ianto bites his bottom lip and nods. If he could get hard, right now! Oh, he’d really like to. Even as his dick twitched just that little bit in surrender. “It may not be limitless. But it was created to store quite a bit. Less chance of ending up without when in an emergency. We can always find another. If we needed to.”

_We just might_ , Ianto thought later. With as much as Gwen fought with every dunk and loss of control, Jack had to top up the tub five times. Until Ianto couldn’t find enjoyment in the show anymore.

“Maybe we should cut out her tongue, after we bring her back. I’m tired of hearing her scream.” He pouts. Jack always falls for the pout.

“She won’t be screaming for a while,” Jack responds. He smiles slowly over at Ianto. Still bundled in his chair. “How about we find some other playthings, now?”

Ianto lazily worries at his lower lip, sliding a hand down his exposed chest, framed in Jack’s blue coat. All to Jack’s pleasure, if his darkening eyes are anything to go by.

“Whenever you’re ready, Sir.”


	19. Epilogue

Arriving at the crime scene, Jack leaves Ianto to deal with the local Heddlu. Even as he steps up to the body, he can hear a voice inquiring as to whether Gwen’s parents were still accepting donations for their daughter’s memorial. Ianto politely thanking them for the thought and directing them to contact the couple directly through an e-mail. Since there wasn’t a body, they want the memorial to be small and tasteful, with only family and friends of the family. But he had heard that the local police force were going to be setting something up as well, if the bloke would like to help out.

On the body, clenched in the hand that had set with rigor mortis, Jack’s keen eyes detected a scrap of red fabric. Soiled and doused in pheromones.

_So, he’s come back, has he?_

Lifting his head, Jack takes in the officer that Ianto is conversing with. Tall and blond and familiar; Gwen’s old partner. And wonders if this is a sign. They did have so much fun with their last copper. Maybe it was time to start the game again. Especially if they’ve got company coming.

Ianto must notice his focus, for he turns to lock eyes. Jack smiles, his ‘good-old boy grin’ and nods to the young man in front of his playmate.

Without breaking his composure, only a slight flash of pleasure in his eyes, Ianto slides a little business card with a silver Torchwood logo over to their next plaything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. It's set up to have a Serial Killer series, but those stories probably won't be related. Different killers, different victims, scenarios, etc. It's just there for blowing off steam from my longer stories and this method has been surprisingly helpful, for me.  
> I'd really like to know what everyone thought! If I should continue posting stories like these, even if they're not set on a schedule, as of yet?  
> And if people do like them, then I'd love to see other versions. Like I've stated multiple times, Serial Killers!AU are my favorite genre in every fandom, and I think there's a lot of untapped potential for it in Torchwood. So, if anyone wants to try their hand, I'll be looking forward to it. Thanks again for reading!


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